The Healing of Old Wounds
by Isabeau
Summary: Jack gets a surprise visit for Father's Day


Sunday, June 17th.  
  
Jack stared at the calendar, willing it to change, to erase. Sunday, June 17th. And below that, in script meant to look like handwriting, it said Father's Day.  
  
Jack hated Father's Day.  
  
He didn't used to; which was, of course, part of the problem. Back when his life was whole, Charlie -- young and sweet and innocent and *alive* -- would always do something for him, even if it was nothing more than a hug and a sticky kiss and a piece of paper with "Happy Father's Day" scrawled in child's handwriting with stick-figure pictures of the two of them.  
  
Jack was always smiling in those pictures, when Charlie was young.  
  
Now, though... now, Father's Day was nothing more than a yearly reminder of his loss. Of his failure.  
  
One year he'd spent the entire Father's Day weekend drinking, trying to forget. He hadn't forgotten; he'd just given himself a splitting headache on top of everything else. This year, he was just going to -- brood. Friday was almost over, and he could go home and leave the lights off and spend the weekend in the dark and quiet.  
  
It was a plan. It was a good plan.  
  
It was a plan that teetered on the edge of oblivion the moment he heard "Colonel O'Neill, report to the gate room immediately."  
  
Sighing, Jack threw a last glare at the calendar before he went down. SG1 wasn't scheduled for anything, but maybe, just maybe, he could go off on a mission. Missions were good for forgetting.  
  
"Colonel, glad you could join us." General Hammond was almost smiling. "The Tok'ra have someone who wants to see you."  
  
"Another mission?" Jack asked, mock griping to hide his hope.  
  
"Not...exactly." The gate swirled to life, and Jack watched it suspiciously.  
  
// Incoming traveler. //  
  
There was a few moment's pause, and then a figure stepped through, stood silhouetted for a moment against the blue shimmer of the event horizon, and took a few steps forward into the gate room.  
  
***  
  
"O'Neill!"  
  
"Skaara!" Jack couldn't stop a grin as he strode forward, meeting Skaara halfway in a giant hug. If Skaara's enthusiasm was more muted than it had been a few years before, if Jack looked more tired, neither of them commented.  
  
"It is good to see you."  
  
"Ditto, kid, ditto." Jack looked over at General Hammond. "Sir...?"  
  
"Permission to leave, Colonel." Hammond had something close to a doting smile on his face. "Enjoy your weekend."  
  
"Thanks." Maybe, now, he would. Slipping an arm around Skaara, he said casually, "So what brings you to this side of town?"  
  
"The Stargate is here, O'Neill." Skaara smiled impudently. "The other side of town does not have a Stargate."  
  
Jack cuffed him lightly. "What brings you to *Earth*, then?"  
  
Skaara's smile faded slightly. "Selmak thought..." He shook his head, smiling, embarrassed. "Selmak's *host* thought I should visit. Was that wrong?"  
  
Selmak's host. Jacob Carter. Jack filed a mental note to thank the General, later; he couldn't have had better timing. "No. You are my--" Jack caught himself on the edge of saying 'son', and corrected it to "--friend."  
  
Skaara smiled again. "And you are mine, O'Neill. I have...missed you."  
  
"More than you've missed Daniel?"  
  
Skaara threw back his head, laughing aloud. "Dan-yel! Yes, I have missed him too. Is he here?"  
  
Jack shook his head. "Off-world. I'll tell him you said hi."  
  
"But he is alive?"  
  
"Oh, yes. Very alive."  
  
They left the base, Skaara staring about him with undisguised awe. Even his time as a Goa'uld and his later service with the Tok'ra hadn't inured him to the wonders of technology. "This is...amazing."  
  
"Not really." Jack shrugged. "Or maybe I'm too used to it."  
  
Skaara grinned. "Dan-yel was the same way on our world. Even the smallest thing made his eyes wide."  
  
"He's like that."  
  
"I miss him," Skaara said softly, "and Sha're."  
  
Jack winced. "Yeah, um. About Sha're..."  
  
"O'Neill. I am aware." Skaara's voice was rough. "Klor'el...he was not happy that Ammonet was killed, but he took joy in the death of her host."  
  
"God, Skaara." Jack tried, and failed, to imagine what that would be like. "I'm sorry."  
  
"It is not your fault."  
  
"Yeah, well." Jack focussed on the road, not daring to look at Skaara. "They said that about Charlie, too."  
  
"Charlie...?"  
  
"Someone I used to know."  
  
Skaara looked at him for a long moment. "You bear much guilt," he said at last. "When I first met you, I did not understand that. Now..."  
  
"What changed?"  
  
"Klor'el."  
  
"Ah."  
  
"I have seen so many things, *done* so many things..."  
  
"It wasn't you, Skaara."  
  
"No," Skaara said, "I do not suppose it was."   
  
"It wasn't," Jack said again, firmly.  
  
***  
  
They drove in silence the rest of the way; and then, as they pulled up at Jack's apartment, he asked, "You hungry?"  
  
"The Tok'ra feed me well," Skaara said doubtfully.  
  
"...you hungry?"  
  
"Always."  
  
"Hope you don't mind pizza."  
  
"Pizza?"  
  
"Pizza. It's a, um...food. Earth food. You'll like it."  
  
Skaara shrugged. "Whatever you serve, O'Neill, I will eat with pleasure."  
  
He didn't sound terribly certain, but Jack knew he'd like pizza. Charlie would have... he shook himself out of that train of thought and dialed the closest pizza place. "Sausage and mushrooms okay?"  
  
Skaara made a noncommital noise.  
  
"You'll like it, trust me." Jack ordered a large pizza for delivery, and got out a couple of beers from the fridge. "Here-- have something to drink."  
  
"What is it?" Skaara glanced curiously at the label.  
  
"Beer." Jack grinned and popped the cap off his own bottle. "Remember the booze you gave me back on Abydos?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Nothing like this." Jack took a long, deep swallow. "Except for the whole alcohol thing. Go on -- drink."  
  
Skaara gave him a wary look, but took his own swallow -- and made a face. "This is...good."  
  
Jack laughed. "You don't have to drink it."  
  
"No. It is good." As if to prove a point, Skaara tilted back his head and took a long swig. He surfaced for air, coughing, and Jack couldn't help but laugh again. "So what is this...pista thing, O'Neill?"  
  
"*Pizza*, Skaara, pizza and beer. It's the classic American dinner."  
  
"Earth," Skaara commented, "is not like Abydos." He was smiling.  
  
"No, it's certainly not."  
  
Jack sprawled on the couch, resting his beer against his forehead. The bottle was cold and damp. "Skaara?"  
  
"Yes, O'Neill?"  
  
"Do you ever regret...that we came through the Stargate?"  
  
Skaara was silent for a moment, eyes closed in thought. "If you had not come, we would not be free -- we would still serve Ra." His voice was steady. "Yet if we still served Ra, it is doubtful that either Sha're or I would have been taken to serve Apophis."  
  
"Yeah," Jack said. "I know."  
  
Skaara did not open his eyes. "I will not lie to you, O'Neill. I spent several years afraid, hating myself for not being strong enough to overcome Klor'el. I spent several years angry at you for not rescuing me, for not rescuing Sha're, for...for standing by and doing nothing."  
  
Jack winced. "Skaara..."  
  
He held up one hand, finally looking at Jack. "I know. You must understand, though: a slave who has tasted freedom can not go back to slavery without fear, without anger, without hatred. I did...things...as Klor'el that I would rather die than remember. I hated him for it, and I hated myself for becoming him...and always, I held on to the hope that you would rescue me. That you would find a way to win."  
  
"Skaara," Jack said again, softly.  
  
"Please...don't." There were tears in Skaara's eyes, now. "I know...I know that you tried, and I know how much failure must have hurt you. I know this now. But then...you were everything. You defeated Ra."  
  
"Luck," Jack said. "Chance. A damn big bomb."  
  
Skaara smiled at that. "I do not blame you for Klor'el, O'Neill. I know you tried; I know that there was nothing else that you could be doing. I just wish things had been different."  
  
"Same here."  
  
The doorbell buzzed, startling them both; Jack had forgotten about the pizza. "I'll be right back," he said, grabbing his wallet on the way to the door.  
  
The pizza was hot, and the smell teased at Jack. He brought it back to Skaara, set the box down on the table, and went to get plates from the kitchen. By the time he got back, Skaara had the box open and was staring suspiciously at the steaming pizza.  
  
"This is pitsa?"  
  
"Pizza," Jack corrected automatically. "Try it, Skaara, it doesn't bite." To demonstrate, he pulled out a piece and lowered the tip into his mouth. "Good ol' American grease," he said, mouth full.  
  
Skaara watched him, blinked, and then took his own slice. "Ow."  
  
"Careful. Cheese is hot."  
  
"I can tell." Skaara flashed a smile at Jack, then took a tentative bite. "This is..." His expression changed. "O'Neill! This is wonderful."  
  
"Thought you'd like it." Jack smiled at Skaara, who beamed back. "And, uh...you've got tomato sauce on your lip." He pointed. Skaara looked crosseyed downwards and licked the red smudge off. "Better."  
  
"This is fantastic." Skaara was gulping down the pizza almost too fast to chew. "I did not know this existed."  
  
"Pizza is one of the good things in life," Jack said. "Chocolate, coffee, and hockey are the other three." He took another slice of the pizza before Skaara could eat the entire thing.  
  
***  
  
Skaara, finally sated after two-thirds of a large pizza, sat back and licked his fingers. Jack smiled at him. "You look like a cat who ate a canary."  
  
"I am not a cat," Skaara pointed out reasonably, "and I ate -- pitsa. You did not tell me there were canaries."  
  
"It's a figure of speech, Skaara. You look -- satisfied."  
  
"I am." Skaara closed his eyes for a moment. "O'Neill? I am glad I came."  
  
"Me too."  
  
"I..." He looked uncomfortable. "I wasn't quite honest with you, earlier. About the reason why I am visiting."  
  
Jack raised one eyebrow and waited for him to continue.  
  
"Selmak's host told me about an Earth custom...." Skaara looked even more uncomfortable. "O'Neill, I know you are not my father, but ... I wanted ..."  
  
He stopped, looking down at the ground. Jack didn't speak -- *couldn't* speak -- just stared at Skaara.  
  
"This is stupid," Skaara burst out suddenly. "I should not have come."  
  
Jack found his voice. "Skaara..."  
  
Skaara looked up, and there were tears glittering in his eyes. "O'Neill, I..."  
  
"Yeah," Jack said roughly. "Me too."  
  
Skaara launched himself at Jack, burrowing against him, arms around him in a tight hug. "I am glad I know you," he murmured.  
  
Jack held on to him. God, how he'd missed this. "Skaara," he said softly, "if you had -- if I had -- if we were --" He buried his face against Skaara's hair, trying to organize his thoughts. "If you were my son, I would be..." He stopped, again. "...*am*..." Skaara looked up at him, and Jack tried to smile. "Proud."  
  
Skaara gave him a small smile, pulled back out of the embrace, and saluted.  
  
[end]  
  



End file.
